


in the dark and out of harm

by growlery writes (growlery)



Series: indulgent monty/miller fwb college au [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Platonic Bed Sharing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-25 01:04:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16186856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/growlery/pseuds/growlery%20writes
Summary: "Like what you see?" Monty jokes, or tries to, anyway. He's a bit too tired to get the tone right. It's that time of year, everything piling up and time running short and thin. He's fine. He just needs to sleep, possibly forever, but he can do that after Miller leaves.





	in the dark and out of harm

**Author's Note:**

> i need to be writing many other things, but i found this deleted scene from _hold you close_ and i like it a whole bunch still so i'm posting it. title is from mcr's summertime.

A brisk knock at Monty's door wakes him from his poorly advised mid-afternoon nap. Poorly advised, since one glance out the window lets Monty know it's well past sundown.

The knock comes again. Raven’s seen him all but naked before, so Monty doesn't bother putting on a shirt before he makes for the door.

"Hey," Miller says, when Monty opens it. He looks fresh-faced and perky and is wearing the hell out of a navy polo, which is to say he looks so much more put together than Monty that it's actually embarrassing. Monty crosses his arms over his bare chest, hunches his shoulders. "Raven let me in."

"Oh shit," Monty says, realisation dawning, "we were supposed to hang out today."

"Yeah," Miller says, but he sounds amused, not pissed. Monty steps aside, and Miller comes in. "I figured you'd forgot when you weren't answering my texts."

"I was asleep," Monty says, and as if to help his case, has to stifle a yawn. "Sorry, it was only supposed to be a short nap."

He's closed his eyes, leant his head back against the wall, but when he struggles to open them properly, Miller's looking at him closely, frowning.

"Like what you see?" Monty jokes, or tries to, anyway. He's a bit too tired to get the tone right. It's that time of year, everything piling up and time running short and thin. He's fine. He just needs to sleep, possibly forever, but he can do that after Miller leaves.

Instead of the sarcastic retort Monty expects, Miller curls a hand around Monty's bare shoulder, pressing lightly on the bruise he left there not two days ago. Monty exhales quickly, not quite a hiss, and lets his eyes close again. Miller's other hand comes up to rub at Monty's other shoulder, firm but gentle, and Monty can't verbalise how good this feels, how much he wants Miller to keep touching him, but he hopes Miller gets it from the way Monty's helplessly leaning into the touch like he's starved for affection, like Raven didn't cuddle with him on the sofa just this morning.

"Good?" comes Miller's voice, quiet, and Monty makes himself hum agreement.

Miller's grip tightens, and then he's turning Monty around, steering him back to his bed, rubbing down over the muscles on his back as they go. Monty’s too tired to really protest, but when Miller lets go of him and starts to get up, Monty grabs his arm. 

“Stay,” he says, then shakes his head, shakes himself. "You came all the way here. We should make the most of it."

“Okay,” Miller says, and sits down, kicks off his shoes. “If you fall asleep on me I'm out of here, though.”

“Deal,” Monty agrees. 

He twists himself around so he's facing Miller, leans forward to kiss him slow and soft. Miller kisses him back, hand coming up to hold the back of Monty's neck, and he was thinking about a bit more than making out, but he could do this for hours. 

He pulls Miller towards him, tips backwards until he’s lying on the bed and Miller’s on top of him, still kissing him so sweet and open. Monty kind of wants to take Miller’s shirt off, both to even the playing field and to feel Miller’s skin against his, but he doesn’t wanna be the first to break them apart, wants to always be touching Miller like this. It’s a ridiculous thought, one he can probably blame on the sleep deprivation, but it’s still true. 

“Hey,” Miller says, soft, and Monty opens his eyes with some effort, mumbles, “Not asleep.”

“Maybe you should be,” Miller says, still soft, and Monty shakes his head. He doesn’t want Miller to leave. He reaches for the hem of Miller’s shirt, starts to tug, feels one of Miller’s hands close around his wrist. 

“Monty,” Miller sighs, but doesn’t say anything else. His grip on Monty’s wrist loosens and his fingers find Monty’s fingers, twine them together. He shifts down against Monty’s side, curling up behind him, and Monty is so content and comfortable he could cry, but he’s not sure what Miller’s getting out of this. 

_Cuddling might be better than sex_ , he remembers Miller saying, and that makes sense; Monty’s a great cuddler when he can be a more active participant. As it is, he only moves so he’s more enclosed in Miller’s warmth and pulls their still interlocked hands against his chest. 

He must fall asleep at some point, but he doesn’t remember.


End file.
